Satirical

It was a metaphor, and I am pleased to tell you that this is not a tale about my privates….

It all started when I gained admission into secondary school. The height I lacked then was compensated by my avid stubbornness and surprising smartness. This was also fueled by my inability to react to pain that most commonly occurred due to sore backsides and palms. In simpler words, I couldn’t cry.

They could beat me all they wanted, stick or stones couldn’t break my bones. As a result, I constantly visited the staffroom to serve one punishment or the other. When I thought I was through, I would be transferred to another teacher. In all this, I didn’t cry.

Sometimes, I would even smile or laugh at the teacher’s futile effort. My grades however, they were surprisingly good despite the lack of complete notes, writing tests in sheets of paper, sleeping in class, in some cases I would even absent myself from the whole class.

I magically maintained this streak through to the senior class. I was posted to commercial class, with new teachers. I began a new terror. This terror went on until that fateful day.

That day that is always the turning point in every thrilling story, that day in which mind provoking decisions were made. That whole day would be summarized into a SLAP!!! The slap that separated the present from the past, the younger me from the present me, the slap was like a send forth from teenage and an initiation to adulthood.

Sorry I failed to mention this, I was allergic to slap. You had the permission to touch any part of my body except my face, I just couldn’t handle the complications. A slap was my Achilles heel. It was my Kryptonite. It was the one thing I avoided at all costs. You just couldn’t slap me.

On that fateful day, I submitted an incomplete biology note, a note that was complete except for a complete diagram of the human skeleton. Who draws a skeleton #fGS?

I was sent by my biology teacher to the staffroom to collect 8 strokes of the cane from my further mathematics teacher.

Now the teacher and I had our irreconcilable differences. Our paths had crossed many times, usually ending with a sore backside. No tears though.

I entered the staffroom and explained the sentence I was given to him, so he could proceed with the enforcement. He smiled and looked at me dead straight in the eyes.

He said, and I quote ‘Osagbemi, Osagbemi, you are here again. Always causing trouble’. All the while, he was denting my face with his palm. The first slap was phenomenal, the rest were supplementary. The feeling I had was similar to the ‘Ripple effect’. My whole body paused in surprise. I felt as if I was betrayed by my ability to resist reaction to pain.

The results were instantaneous. I made sure to avoid him at all costs. Given the chance, I would have changed my name. I became a little well behaved and reserved. People wondered what happened.

I attribute my personality and little achievements today, to that singularly defining moment, the moment my further mathematics teacher kicked me in the n#ts!!

Enlighten others--

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This headline is self-explanatory. Self-explanatory is a phrase you use when you don’t have much to say

When there is a problem that we cannot cure, when it becomes persistent, what do we do?

We play a game. The blame game. We begin to point middle fingers at each other instead of finding a cure. This exercise makes us enemies of each other.

When the outbreak of Ebola occurred in Nigeria, all fingers were unanimously pointed at Patrick sawyer. Reality set in as we noticed that pointing fingers didn’t solve the problem as the Nigerian government began to take precautions.

This brought about positive results. Sorry for digressing.

The blame game has been on for a while. Ministers are blaming each other, I even saw a finger pointed at the CBN. A lot of laughable opinions.

Even if we are right and the fingers were pointed accurately, does that solve the problem on ground? Thank you

Err…. There are quite a lot of interesting things that happened over the weekend

Nigeria assumes game of thrones style as minister appoints Jonathan king of the south:

Hello!!! What’s up na? I was literally baffled as I saw the headlines, one essential minister like that sought after four point something million signatures to declare Good luck Jonathan for second term. I don’t quite understand the point he was trying to get across.

I ain’t here to slander anybody but what’s the point of doing so if all is still going to be settled by an election. Is this a strategy to scare away the competition?

It reminded me of the series ‘game of thrones’. In this series, the death of the king brought about an uprising, in which approximately five different people were crowned king of their respective zones. It was quite interesting, but it showed lack of control and co-ordination, two things which have to be present in a well governed nation.

If the time they used to get the signatures had been used for something useful, I wouldn’t be here with this headline. I have always wondered, when people are being let of the hook for doing something stupid, why do they do something stupider? I always wondered why stupider is not a word though.

Enlighten others--

Like this:

It is no news that our there has been a war, going on for generations between the faces of children and palms of parents.

The battle started when the captain of the FOC (Faces of Children) army, launched a full scale attack against the POP (Palms of Parents) army, using their secret weapon, the almighty tongue. This attack was of an undue cause, which led to ensuing chaos as the POP army couldn’t take this attack with a wave of the palm.

While the FOC army was rejoicing from their victory and wagging their secret weapon, the POP army launched a full scale counter attack with a direct hit to the FOC army.

This counter attack caused chaos as casualties were recorded. All the pain receptors on the cheek went haywire as they had to notify the president, Sir Brain.

The brain promptly instructed the FOC army to withdraw immediately and the tear ducts to be opened, leading to a massive flood on the cheek area.

With this we could say that the POP army had won the battle.

However, there is a saying ‘you may win the battle, but you will eventually lose the war’. This was a classic example. The POP army became weaker over time, as more and more enthusiastic parents were born. These parents encouraged their children to be rude outspoken and confident.

I stand here, happy to report to you that the POP army had gone into extinction and the FOC army are now using their secret weapon, the tongue to reign terror on harmless parents in a well behaved manner.